


What Doesn't Kill You (Tactics and Strategy Remix)

by pearl_o



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Pole Dancing, Professor/TA, Siblings, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-26
Updated: 2013-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-13 01:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/818523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearl_o/pseuds/pearl_o
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles is a graduate student with a crush on the professor he's TA-ing for and a side job at a strip club. Thankfully, his little sister is always full of helpful advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Doesn't Kill You (Tactics and Strategy Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [professor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/gifts).
  * Inspired by [What Doesn't Kill You](https://archiveofourown.org/works/576632) by [professor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/professor/pseuds/professor). 



The first thing Charles does when he gets back to his apartment is call Raven.

Raven answers on the fifth ring. "What is it?" she says. The words are muffled around what Charles assumes is a mouthful of food - pizza, he'd guess; he's gotten good at telling the difference between different dishes with her. "I hope this is important. You're interrupting my date."

"When you say date, do you mean you and Hank watching Star Wars on your couch again?"

"Yeah," Raven replies. "So?"

Charles shakes his head and throws himself down across his couch. "Erik was there tonight at my club."

"Who the hell is Erik?" Raven says, still sounding grumpy. This is not the reaction Charles was both hoping and expecting in response to his dramatic declaration. He rolls his eyes.

"Erik Lehnsherr. The professor I'm TA-ing for."

"What, the eighty year old guy who smells like salami? Ew. What was he doing at a gay strip club?"

" _No_ , that's Professor Graham, the one teaching my seminar. This is Erik. I swear I've talked about this with you a dozen times. He's the hottest guy I've ever met and I want to climb him like a tree and _he was at my club tonight_."

"Oh!" Raven says suddenly. "That guy! Sorry, I tend to drift off whenever you start talking about dudes having bodies like Adonis."

Charles cannot remember using that turn of phrase, precisely, but to be fair, he had been pretty drunk the last time he was over at Raven's, and Erik had been wearing a particularly tight pair of pants in class that day. 

"Was he there to see you?" Raven asks. "Like, do you think he's sexily stalking you or something?"

"That would be lovely," Charles says, "but no, I don't think so. He was there with a table full of people - I think they were celebrating something - and he looked surprised at the end of my act. I think he just recognized me then."

Raven makes a thoughtful noise. "That doesn't sound really promising."

"What do you think I should do?"

"I don't see that there is anything _to_ do. He'll probably just make a joke about it when you see him on Monday and everything will be the same as before."

Charles sighs. "You don't think now that he's seen me work the pole he'll be so overcome with lust he'll just take me right there on his desk as soon as he sees me again?"

"I'm going to hang up now," Raven says cheerfully, and she follows through on the promise before Charles has a chance to argue.

* * *

Erik doesn't make a joke about it on Monday. He doesn't say a single word about it. Charles is surprised, and disappointed, but everything seems to be exactly the same as always between them, and Charles might even think he had imagined the whole thing, except -

Except Erik is at the club again that weekend. Off in the corner, where Charles almost misses him, but he's definitely there.

And the weekend after that. And the one after that.

And he still doesn't say _anything_. Still doesn't do anything. 

Charles thinks he might be going insane.

* * *

The thing about it is, Charles really _likes_ Erik. Obviously, he wants to sleep with him - that goes without saying, really - but it's more than that. If it was just about getting laid, Charles could find a way to scratch that itch without going through all of this messiness, all of the complications that would come along with him and Erik and their positions. But no, there have to be _feelings_ involved. He likes how smart Erik is, the way his mind organizes itself so neatly and how it shows with every lecture, the way he seems hard and untouchable on the outside but will soften with pleasure when a student asks a particularly intelligent or thoughtful question. He likes the jokes Erik makes when it's just the two of them, holed up somewhere grading papers, subtle and ironic and never quite over the line into cruel. 

He likes a lot of things. He's doomed.

At the end of every lecture, Charles asks Erik whether there's anything else he can do for him. He doesn't specify what sort of things he means, but in the solitude of his own mind he lets his imagination go wild. _Tell me to bend over the desk for you. Tell me to go down on my knees. I'll pull your hair, I'll ride your cock, I'll sit on your face, just ask me._

Sometimes there's a spark in Erik's eyes that makes Charles think, for one glorious second, that Erik might take him up on one of those unspoken offers. But in the end, he never does.

* * *

He's at Raven's for dinner. Raven's sent Hank out to take care of himself for a few hours so they can have what she calls Private Sibling Bonding Time. Private Sibling Bonding Time involves a giant pitcher of sangria and waffles. 

"So what I think is, is this," Raven says, gesturing at Charles with her fork in a dramatic way. "He keeps coming to see you all writhing and naked, right? So that has got to mean something."

"If it means something, why hasn't he made a move?" Charles says mournfully. He drags a lonely last piece of waffle through the mess of fruit and whipped cream on his plate.

"Well, why haven't _you_ made a move?"

Charles says, "I - because - _reasons_."

Raven nods sagely. "Exactly. _Exactly_. So what you have to do now is just - you have to bring it to a crisis point, you know? So that things can't stay the way they are, they have to move forward. And even in the worse case scenario, at least you would know and could stop obsessing about it, right?"

"What sort of crisis point are we talking about?" 

Raven explains her plan, which features a lot of wild waving about of her hands. 

"That," Charles says, when she finally finishes, "is a terrible plan."

She sticks out her tongue at him. "Do you have anything better?"

"No," Charles admits. He reaches for the pitcher and refills his glass.

* * *

As luck would have it, the weather the next evening is perfect for the plan: rain, rain and more rain - a downpour, really - coming down in heavy sheets with no sign of stopping. 

Charles takes a deep breath, doublechecks his cell phone to make sure it's about to die, and very purposefully leaves his umbrella in its stand next to his front door as he leaves.

He parks his car on the side of the road, about five blocks from Erik's apartment. _This is a stupid idea_ , he thinks. _You can still back out now and pretend you never even considered doing this._

But Raven's right, in that way she is just frequently enough to keep him on his toes and dry him completely mad. He wants, more than anything, to see this through. Better that than stay in his uncertain half-state.

He jogs through the rain, soaked through before he even gets halfway to his destination. He feels a little like a drowned rat, but he keeps going, all the way to Erik's door, where he knocks heavily, putting into it all the certainty he lacks.

Erik opens the door, looking cozy and settled and domestic and a million other things that make Charles want to melt, a look Charles has never seen on him before.

Charles takes a deep breath to explain why he's here, but Erik doesn't even give him a chance before he's pulling him into the warm, dry foyer, clucking over him like a hen, shocking and thrilling. He manages to get out the stupid excuse anyway - my car broke down, no umbrella, no phone, of course I had nowhere else to go, I had to show up at your doorstep, surely you won't send me away - and Erik ust takes in stride.

"Let's get you warmed up," Erik says, and then he's leading Charles to his bedroom, and Charles's heart almost skips a beat at the sight of that huge bed, Erik's big hand still a branding heat on Charles's wet arm. Surely it can't be this easy, after all this time--

"I have some spare sweats here," Erik says, letting go of Charles to pull open a dresser drawer. "Go ahead and change into something dry. I'll go make you some tea."

He exits the room, leaving Charles alone. Charles sits down hard upon the edge of the bed, letting out a sigh. He lets himself sulk for just a minute before he stands again and begins stripping off his clothes. When he's naked, he stares down at the drawer.

"Fuck," Charles says out loud. "Might as well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb." The blanket Erik had foist upon him is still lying on the bed where he left it; he picks it up and wraps it back around him, squares his shoulders, and heads off to find Erik.

He finds the kitchen fairly easily. Erik is standing over the sink. He turns around as Charles enters the room, and his eyes go wide, and there's an expression in them Charles can't even put words to--

And then it's like time goes so fast Charles can't even make sense of it, and Erik is right in front of him, on his knees, his head against Charles's stomach. 

"I have been trying to wait until the end of the semester," Erik says, his voice deep and slow and careful and possibly the sexiest thing Charles has ever heard, "but I think that if I don't have sex with you right now I might _actually die_ from it."

"Oh _thank god_ ," Charles says, and he pulls Erik up from his knees and into a kiss as the blanket falls to the floor between them.

* * *

Sometime in the middle of the night, sometimes after rounds one (the fast, desperate blowjobs, the taste of Erik sweet and bitter and irresistible on Charles's tongue) and two (the slow, careful fucking, rocking into Erik's lovely ass as he stared down into his glassy pale eyes) and some actually amazing snuggling, they're curled together in Erik's bed, and Erik lets out a soft, breathy laugh against Charles's neck.

"Hm?" Charles says vaguely. He's halfway to sleep again already.

"I was thinking," Erik says, pressing a kiss to Charles's pulse, "about how fucking smug my friends are going to be when they find out about this."

Charles grins, though he knows Erik can't see it. "Believe me, love, they'll be nothing compared to my sister."

"Your sister?" Erik repeats, curiosity in his voice.

Charles smirks and says, "Whose idea do you think it was for me to show up on your doorstep like this, hm?"

Erik makes a noise that might almost be considered a growl.

As it turns out, Charles isn't so sleepy after all; there's more than enough energy in him for round three.

* * *

There's only two more weeks left in the semester, and then he's no longer Erik's TA. He misses it, a little bit, them working together, but being Erik's _boyfriend_ is more than enough comfort. Especially since there's nothing stopping him from calling him "Professor Lehnsherr" occasionally in bed. It's amazing how much extra credit Charles manages to earn.

Erik comes to the club every weekend and watches Charles dance, and every weekend Charles goes home with him afterwards and gets to find out yet again just how much Erik appreciates seeing him work a pole.


End file.
